Chapter 9: Chapter 8 – The Bone Lord’s True Visage

"What the Bone Lord has done for us elves, I cannot describe in words. He gave us a new life, one not filled to the brim with violence and power struggles. For the first time in my centuries of life, I found a place where I could be at peace, and just… enjoy life. For this boon my gratitude to him knows no bounds, and I have thus swore to my soul that I shall serve him in whatever way I could as long as my existence persists." - Drietven Edrunviel, head butler of the Palace of Bones.

"What's the story with the butler, mom?" Aideen asked while they changed in the guest room assigned to them. She and her mother shared a room as the Bone Lord and Aoife agreed that someone should be at hand with her in case anything happened. There were just too many unknowns about her current state. Diarmuid had another room across the hall from them.

 

"Drietven? It's a bit of a long story I guess, but sure," replied Aoife as she slipped on a silken black sleeveless evening dress with a slit that went all the way to the hip on the right side. Despite her mother's age of fifty-five this year, Aideen sometimes envied her beauty, seemingly free from the ravages of time. "It was well before my birth, so I also mostly heard the story secondhand. Master supposedly captured him during an elven raid four centuries or so ago, when he was but a young elf of a hundred, fresh into adulthood."

 

"That's… definitely a long time ago," said Aideen as she pondered how it must have felt to live for so long. "That's what made me wonder… all the stories about elves have painted them as… savages?"

 

"Oh, they definitely were savages, my child," replied Aoife as she nodded. "The aftermath of an elven raid would have seen villages burned to the ground, everything of value looted, the inhabitants killed without mercy, and eaten as well. To say that Drietven has come a long way from that is no small thing."

 

"Why would they do such horrible things?" Asked Aideen as she slipped on her tunic. It was a finespun one, with a weave that feels soft to the touch, and tied with a belt at her waist.

 

"Part of it stemmed from… ignorance, my child," answered Aoife in a sad tone. "Younger people never knew any other life, while their elders, long stuck up on their ways, taught them that theirs was the only way. Even for a race as long lived as elves, it is horrible to witness what willful ignorance can do to them."

"That's why I always find your grandpa's attempt to help them find a better life such a wonderful thing," she added with nostalgic reminiscence. "To this date, nearly a hundred of Drietven's elven brethren have joined him in refuge here. You should have noticed how many of the servants in the palace were elves as well, no?"

 

"Yes, almost all I've seen," replied Aideen with a nod as she tidied her long hair and tied it into a neat ponytail.

 

"Exactly. The girl who had shown us to this room? That's Yvgenia, Drietven's daughter. One reason he had so much gratitude to your grandpa is because his childhood friend and beloved was amongst the first to join him here," explained Aoife patiently. She had a melancholic smile on her face as she continued. "And much like any parent out there, he wished for his children to live a better life than him."

 

"But enough about that. Come now, child, let us not tarry overlong and make your grandpa wait."

 

When they left their bedroom, the elven maid - Drietven's daughter - led them straight towards the throne room after they fetched Diarmuid from his room, where they entered and saw that a small, cozy dining table for four had been set up.

 

The Bone Lord himself seated cross-legged on his skull throne, a large divan carved from a massive piece of jet-black onyx, shaped like a mythical dragon's skeleton with its maw opened wide, with the seat being its tongue.

 

He rose from his seat as he saw Aoife come in, and beckoned them to come closer. Once they did, he gave loving hugs to Aideen and Diarmuid, who returned the favor, if a bit tentatively in Diarmuid's case.

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"Sit, sit down, children, they should serve the food soon," said the Bone Lord. Aideen was rather curious about why the Bone Lord seemed like he would join them in the dinner. After all, could he even eat?

 

Her unvoiced query was answered soon afterwards when Drietven entered with a tray that held four tall glasses balanced on his right hand. He distributed the glasses on the table, then went beside the bone lord's seat as he bowed.

 

"The usual, master?" Asked the elven butler.

 

"Yes, please, and make sure to shift any appointments for the week that follows to later. I want some family time," replied the Bone Lord cheerfully.

 

"Your will be done, master," replied the elf as he began to work his magic.

 

Even from her seat Aideen could feel the flow of magic, life affinity, like what she used to have, and she watched wide eyed as Drietven worked his magic on the Bone Lord.

 

Before her eyes, nerves, flesh, and muscles grew upon the pristine bones of the Bone Lord. Once the flesh did its part, skin covered up the newly formed body, and a coat of orange-brownish fur grew on it, with a few darker bands on the Bone Lord's now fluffy tail, and a patch of white fur around his muzzle and the insides of his ears.

 

When he spoke again, the Bone Lord laughed a chittering laugh, and squinted at the gobsmacked faces of his grandchildren, who witnessed his true mortal form for the first time.

 

"Surprised, Children?" He said with another chitter. "I too enjoy the more worldly things, like good foods and drinks, and all it takes to do that is a helping of life magic from one who knows what they're doing."

 

Aideen and Diarmuid were silent as they stared slack jawed at the Bone Lord's mortal visage, while Aoife giggled behind her hand to the sight. She was well aware of this side of her master.

 

On the other hand, the thought that occupied Aideen's mind at the time was how adorably cute her grandpa Aarin, the dreaded Bone Lord, looked when he squinted and laughed, and the juxtaposition made her unable to decide what to think of it.

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